Last Man Standing
by Nikki-9-Doors
Summary: Picks up at the season 5 finale. What drove Mac Taylor to take out his own team? Was it rage? Was it insanity? Does he feel any guilt at all? Oneshot.


_~~~ Very excited for the season premier! Will Danny be killed? :-O *shock*_

_Anyway, this is my take on it. Yes, I know this would never happen in the show. Do I expect Mac to be revealed as a phsycopathic killer? Nu-uh. Now, do I think he's a jerk sometimes? Oh yeah!_

_Warning: This may or may not offend you. I don't mean it to so I'm sorry if it does. You've been warned._

_I do **not** delete any reviews (I believe that's opressing someone's opinion and therefore wrong), and accept anonymous ones too. So feel free to review, even if you're ticked off at me for writing this. I'm pretty sure I've dealt with the most vile and angry by now..._

_Anway, e__njoy! :-) ~~~_

* * *

"It's hard to believe today actually happened," said Stella as she and Mac exited his office and began to walk down the hall towards the elevators.

"I wish there was a way to make it so it hadn't." Mac replied, although he didn't entirely mean it. He was kind of glad that it had. It had given him an opening, pushed him to do something, plan something, that he'd known he had to do for a long time.

"I think the next couple of days are going to be the hardest." Stella added as they walked down the hall. There was a pause as she waited for Mac to agree, and when he didn't she added, "Everybody's waiting at the bar. You coming?"

"You go ahead," Mac replied, "I'll be along in a few." Just as soon as he made that phone call.

He waited for Stella to ask why, but she didn't. They'd known each other for a long time, and she trusted him, probably thinking that he just had to grieve or think or do something else Mac-like.

Stella came towards him, gave him a kiss on the cheek and a hug. He hugged her back and wished things could have been different. He really liked Stella. Once the thing he had with Peyton had fizzled out, he'd even considered…but no, things weren't different. They were as they were.

"You did her proud," Stella was saying.

Mac responded, "We all did." it was the right thing to say. He'd known Jessica Angell as a co-worker, Stella's friend, and Flack's girlfriend. But he hadn't gotten attached. If he had done her proud, he didn't much care, nor did he care if anyone else had.

Stella got onto the elevator, gave him a smile as the doors slid shut. Once they had, Mac turned around and headed back for his office, picked up the phone, called the number he knew by heart...

Maris Donovan's mother had hired an assassin to kill the man she believed had murdered her daughter, but that was not Mac's first run-in with paid assassins. Over the years he had associated with a few, even made deals in order to solve a homicide. Sometimes things like that were necessary. And although Mrs. Donovan's assassin refused to kill women, there were other assassins who had no problem with that.

The one Mac called was one of them.

[XYZ]

Mac walked into the bar just as Stella had begun to make her speech. She smiled at him, glad he could make it, and Mac smiled back. He had considered not showing up, but he had worked in homicide long enough to know that doing so would make him a suspect.

Hawkes poured him a drink and nodded in acknowledgement. Mac took the glass and raised it, the others following suit, and Stella began her speech.

"Jessica Angell was one of those rare people who touched each of our lives…" which was when Mac noticed the car coming down the road, turning the corner. "…a kind who reaffirm your faith in humanity…"

Mac surveyed his team. Beautiful Stella, who had always been his friend. Danny and Lindsay, young and in love. He felt a little bad for leaving their child an orphan, but figured things had a way of working themselves out. Adam, goofy but a good guy. Flack, who no doubt thought he and Angell would be the next Danny and Lindsay. Sid, who was about ten years older than Mac and still going strong. Hawkes, who like the rest didn't really deserve to die, nor was he ready to, but would anyway.

Lastly, himself. Was Mac ready to die? It wasn't part of the plan, but he knew that the assassins couldn't be relied on to get the job done efficiently. Kill those they were instructed to, yes. But kill _only_ those they were instructed to kill? No.

Stella was finishing up the speech just as the shots were fired. Mac wasn't the first one to drop to the floor, but he was certainly quick to do so. Screams rose up, from both his fellow CSIs and other people at the bar. Mac had known that there would be other people around, that they might be killed too. It was what he expected.

When the rain of bullets stopped, Mac stood up. He looked around at the grim scene. The assassins had done their jobs well. All of his team was dead, and unfortunately so were a few others.

"Call 911!" Mac called out to one of the waitresses, who had ducked behind the bar when the shoot-out began. Unharmed, the young woman complied.

"Mac," a voice wheezed. It was Stella. She was bleeding heartily but miraculously not dead, and Mac rushed to her side.

"Mac…why…did you do it?" she asked, breathlessly. Blood bubbled from her lips, and Mac stared at her in horror. He should have known that she'd figure it out. It didn't matter anyway. She'd be dead in just a few more seconds. He looked around wildly. Had anyone heard her? No, she'd been too quiet. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Mac was right about Stella's death being near. Before he could even come up with a reply, Stella stopped breathing, her lifeless form lying on the floor in front of him. He cradled her head in his hands, knowing he'd have to look somewhat distressed if he was to avoid all suspicion.

But he _would_ avoid all suspicion. He was a cop, for god's sake, and a crime scene investigator. He was known to the city and had been around a long time. There were people who would vouch for him, and besides which, there were people on which the blame for his crime could be easily pinned. Dunbrook, for example. Everyone knew he was no big fan of Detective Mac Taylor and his team, and that he had enough connections to murder them and leave no trail.

Mac could here the wail of sirens as both police cars and ambulances pulled up in front of the bar. Paramedics rushed in, whisked the dead bodies away. Next came the cops, ready to take statements and reports from all those who could still speak without needing a visit to the ICU.

"Taylor," said one detective Mac remembered but only vaguely. Before they'd gotten Flack, Mac's team had gone through countless homicide detectives, and he knew that this had been one of them.

Remembering the name Mac said, "Jordan. Good to see you again. Just wish I could've run into you under better circumstances." he looked around him, frowned, did his best to portray anger, fear, and sadness.

To cement his act, he punched a wall. "Dammit," he seethed, "My team, Jordan! My team!"

_I killed them all, _he thought to himself, _I finally killed them. _

[XYZ]

Mac stood in front of Chief of Police Sinclair and gave his resignation.

Because he knew he wasn't the kind of man expected to break down immediately, he worked three cases before deciding to take his leave. He even worked his own homicide case, interpreting evidence to point him in one direction or another - whichever direction he made it go in, Mac made sure it didn't point to him. Eventually he managed to make it seem like Dunbrook's fault, and the trial had passed with no problem. Dunbrook had been blamed for the mass murder. For Mac Taylor, all was well.

So now he was leaving, staging a breakdown. Sinclair didn't seem that surprised. He expected it, wished him well, said he was sorry.

Mac nodded and left. He went home and began to pack his bags. He had lived in New York City since before he had met his wife, and had lived in New York state his entire life. Now he would be headed far away, doing his best to leave no record or trail. He had every intention to never be caught.

But if someone were to catch him, and to ask him why he had done it, Mac wouldn't have an answer for them. Had his team deserved it? No. Did he hold them in contempt? No. However, he had felt it had been something in need of doing. It had been a long time in the making, but it had taken the murder of Jessica Angell to finally push him to do it.

All of his team was buried. Danny and Lindsay in the same cemetery in NYC (although there had been a small dispute when the Monroes wanted their daughter's body to be buried in Montana); Sid in a family plot; Flack in the same cemetery as Angell; Hawkes, Stella, and Adam had been cremated. Lucy Monroe-Messer had been sent to Montana to be raised by Lindsay's parents.

Mac exited his apartment heading for an airport. He'd left most of his possessions behind, but he had money and the means to start again.

Yes, he had killed his team, every last one of them.

And he'd do it again in a heartbeat.


End file.
